Sinful

by Scarlett Sanderson

  “Just the way it is,” Layla shrugged. “The MC is all about protecting their womenfolk.”

  “Hmm,” Grace mumbled, still baffled. The feminist in her clawed to argue.

  Zeke motioned to the bartender. “Layla’s Jed’s old lady. You haven’t met Jed. He’s in jail.”

  Sorrow entered Layla’s eyes and Grace wanted to hug her. “But coming out next year. And then he won’t know what hit him. I’m gonna get me laid.” Grace couldn’t help but laugh with her. Layla’s gaze flitted back and forth between Grace and Zeke. “Soooo, you two…?”

  She let the question hang in the air. Hell, Grace didn’t know what they were or what was going on. Rather than have Zeke dismiss her as a fuck buddy or something equally horrific, she answered for them. “Purely platonic.”

  Layla patted her hand. “Sure thing, honey.”

  Someone shouted her name and Layla excused herself. She gracefully walked to the opposite end of the bar in the killer heels. If Grace wore them she’d been on her ass in seconds. She had no decorum where heels were concerned.

  Zeke tipped his glass towards her. She clinked it against his before raising it to her lips. Eyes on him, she tilted it back and sipped. The tequila burned its way down her throat, quickly chased by a soothing warmth. The smoky alcohol wasn’t for everyone, but she loved it. Mainly the more expensive stuff—reposado, anejo. Best thing about it, it never gave her a hangover. Not that she was an expert where booze was concerned. She didn’t drink that much, but she knew what she liked and stuck with it.

  Zeke watched her the whole time. Heat prickled along her skin, whether from the booze or his gaze, she didn’t know. Two things were certain—her nipples were hard peaks and her pussy throbbed.

  Whatever was between them definitely wasn’t platonic on her part.

  A smirk curled the corners of his delicious lips. She stopped herself from leaning forward and tracing them with her tongue, tasting the lingering tequila.

  Jesus Christ, she was obsessed.

  “See something you want, Grace?”

  Hell yeah, she did. She wanted to jump him, tackle him to the ground and get her hands under his shirt. From the ride they’d shared she knew his abs were tight and hard. She wanted to explore every ridge. Would he be ticklish? Did he enjoy having his nipples played with?

  A masculine laugh broke through the noise. She snapped her attention towards the chortle. Her gaze narrowed on Rafe, his head was thrown back while Kadence beamed at him. A glint of mischief danced in her eyes. Gabe sat beside her, his arm casually draped along the back of her seat. If she leaned back his finger would brush the nape of her neck.

  Grace’s gut reaction was to step in. To separate her sister from the two men.

  “Don’t worry about them,” Zeke jerked his head towards the brothers. “You’ve told them the score, they might try and push the boundaries, but they would never hurt her.”

  Grace took another hit on her tequila. “I know. It’s just...”

  “Just what? You think because we’re in an MC, we’ll take advantage? You think we don’t respect women?”

  She lifted her chin, raised her eyebrows. The indignation in his tone surprised her. He was right. Just because they were in a motorcycle club, and she’d seen them with different women at parties, she’d pre-judged without knowing them.

  That wasn’t the whole reason she was on edge.

  “You’re right. I don’t know anything about them, but I’m more concerned about Kadence.”

  Zeke leaned against the bar. “How so?”

  She took a breath, eyes fixed on her smiling sister. “She’s had a rough ride. Her ex. He was a complete asshole. Manipulative. Abusive—psychologically and physically. Violent. He wouldn’t leave her alone. She lived in fear for a while. We finally got a restraining order. Still didn’t stop him.”

  It had been a total nightmare. “One day he went too far. Eventually they locked him up, but it was sheer hell.”

  Zeke’s touch brought her back from the past. He ran his fingers up and down her forearm. The gesture soothed some of the rage swirling inside.

  She met his gaze. The whiskey orbs burned deeply with unchecked anger. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. That Kadence went through it. No man should ever abuse a woman. If he wasn’t in jail, I’d ask you to give me that fucker’s address. Seems like he needs to learn some manners.”

  Something soft unfurled in her stomach. No one had offered to help her with Kadence’s ex. Although her parents loved their kids, they hadn’t known what to do. Grace took the lead, sorted out all the legal shit and got Kadence into therapy. She’d shouldered the responsibility.

  She flashed Zeke a weak smile. “Thanks. I wish you’d been around back then. I might have taken you up on the offer.”

  And all that shit was why she was over-protective of her sister. She knew Kadence was healing. Her sister was doing so much better. The fact she flirted meant she hadn’t let it affect her future relationships with men. Kadence’s strength and resilience amazed her. Yet Grace couldn’t help her protectiveness. She felt like a god damn mother hen.

  Zeke gripped her chin gently, turning her to look at him. “They’ll look after her. I promise. You have my word. Jay will keep an eye out. Let her have some fun.”

  Grace let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. Zeke’s words released some of the tension coiled tight in her belly. “Thank you.”

  He dipped his head, nodding.

  In that moment, the intimate moment of sharing a piece of herself with him, something passed between them. Some of her lingering defenses crumbled.

  His gaze darkened. Heated.

  Unsure what to say to him, she lifted her glass and sipped again. Did she bring up the kiss? He hadn’t mentioned it and she didn’t want to seem needy or desperate.

  Confused didn’t cover it. One minute he blew cold, telling her to stay away; the next he kissed the daylights out of her and left her hanging. She didn’t think of herself as particularly clingy, but Zeke’s back and forth left her dizzy.

  “Platonic, huh?” He said lazily as he sipped on his own glass of Herradura.

  She shrugged. Her heart hammered in her chest. “Nothing’s happened between us.” And didn’t her body just weep at the sorry fact.

  His eyes blazed. “So that kiss in your store? Platonic, right? Nothing doing whatsoever?”

  His gaze captivated her. His graveled voice and lethal tone sent shivers down her spine. The dull throb between her thighs demanded she grab his head and force his lips against hers. She wanted to boost her legs around his waist and grind herself on his cock. Been wanting to do that for such a long time.

  Feeling brave, she decided to goad him further. Small, petty revenge for leaving her hanging. “That’s right, purely platonic.”

  He slammed down his glass, swiped an arm around her waist and dragged her towards the metal stairs. He was so intent on his destination, she could barely keep up with his pace.

  She risked a glance at him. His jaw was set in a grimace. The pulse beat wildly in his neck. All she could do was hold on as he pulled her along. She’d poked the dragon, what else did she expect? Flowers, hearts and singing birdies?

  Tiny butterflies of lust beat in her stomach. The thrilling excitement of the unknown aroused her. She’d forced him to lose his tightly held control and she liked it.

  “Where are we going?” She managed to ask, breathlessly.

  He glared down at her and the unrepressed desire stole her breath. “To show you just how fucking platonic our relationship is.”

  Chapter Five

  Grace stumbled into the bedroom as Zeke pushed open the door and bundled her inside. He flipped on a lamp. The average sized room was dominated by a large, king-size bed already made up with grey linen. She swallowed as she looked around. Furnishings were sparse, a closet and dresser the only other pieces. A closed door, which she assumed was a bathroom, stood next to the bed. Turning, she locked eyes with Zek
e, unable to avoid his gaze any longer.

  Something dark, dominant and dangerous flashed in his whiskey orbs. Although he looked imposing, like a coiled predator waiting to pounce, his colorful tattoos glinting in the dim light, she wasn’t scared of him.

  Okay, maybe just a little, but the fear only added to her desire.

  They were completely alone. The heavy drum beat of music thrummed through the floor. Even if she screamed, no one would hear her. She was definitely on her own. The helplessness ratcheted her excitement up a notch.

  Blood thundered as her heart beat rapidly. Her chest rose and fell as she took short, sharp breaths. The lace bra scratched her super sensitive nipples.

  She put her hands on her hips, jutting out her chin. Despite being attracted to him, she was also seriously pissed at him. “So this is how you prove our relationship isn’t platonic? Lock me in your bedroom?”

  Despite a steady pulsing between her thighs and the tightness of her nipples, she refused to give into him. He’d just manhandled her in front of a room full of people. He couldn’t treat her like she was a thing to be carted around. Picked up one minute, discarded the next.

  She watched his hands ball into fists, his chest puffing out as he inhaled. His shirt pulled tight across his pecs and she fought every instinct not to sigh. The man was built like a god. A pure destructive force of nature. She’d bet all the money in her bank account he looked even better without clothes.

  He continued to stand there, sizing her up. When he didn’t answer, she sank onto the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. “You bring me up here. Sorry, scrap that. You drag me up here and now you won’t even speak to me?”

  Still no verbal reaction, just a tightening of his fists and a slight flare of his nostrils.

  His lack of response began to unnerve her. At least when they argued she knew where she stood.

  Her temper flared and the words tumbled out. “Am I just too much of a good girl, Zeke? Too good that you can’t even get it up…”

  She didn’t get chance to finish her sentence. Zeke stalked across the room in two long strides, gripped her upper arms and dragged her to her feet. His eyes blazed, scorching her already heated skin.

  “Shut the fuck up, Grace,” he growled seconds before his lips were on hers.

  Their previous kiss had been hot and tantalizing. This one was wildfire. His tongue licked the seam of her lips, forcing her to open. To accept him. When she parted for him, his tongue danced with hers in a furious tangle. She imaged him using that exact move on her clit and she squeezed her legs together as heat pooled.

  He curled one hand in her hair. When he gripped and pulled, angling her head to the side to deepen the kiss, she moaned.

  She’d been kissed many times, but never like this. Heat spread through her veins like liquid fire. She grabbed a handful of his t-shirt and yanked him closer, needing to feel all that power plastered against her.

  He nipped the delicate flesh of her lower lip before once again marauding her mouth. She didn’t think he could go any deeper. It was as though he were trying to crawl inside and devour her.

  She burned with heat and lust and need.

  Right now, in this moment, nothing mattered. Not the fact he was probably a convicted felon, not the fact he was the leader of a motorcycle gang, not that she was a good girl, and good girls didn’t fuck dangerous men.

  In this moment she wanted to be consumed by him.

  She needed to breathe. Her head spun. She felt dizzy and faint. Grace pulled back, breaking their kiss. She inhaled deeply and breathed out his name.

  He ran the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips. “No. No questions. No stopping. I have other uses for that pretty mouth.”

  A shiver of desire slithered down her spine. The look he flashed her was pure sex. She wasn’t under any illusions about what he had planned for her mouth, and she ached for it.

  He unbuttoned her shirt, his warm hands parting the functional cotton. He pushed it off her shoulders and she gasped as his fingers skimmed the side of her breasts. When he smiled coyly, she knew it hadn’t been an accident.

  Facing Zeke in her bra she said a silent prayer of thanks for choosing the midnight blue lace this morning. He stared at her covered breasts and she blushed. She didn’t have a body like the women she’d seen hanging around him. She couldn’t compete with younger, thinner women. She turned her head away, worry dampening some of the fire.

  “Look at me, Grace,” he said huskily.

  She responded to his command and looked him directly in the eye. She may not be one of the usual club women, but she wouldn’t apologize for who she was.

  He wet his lips and brushed his thumbs over her nipples. Zings of electricity shot down to her pussy. Her nipples tightened to the point of pain and she arched into his touch.

  “Fucking beautiful,” he murmured, never taking his gaze from hers.

  She felt as though she was drowning. Drowning in him. His scent. His dominating presence.

  With slow, lazy motions, he continued circling her nipples. Her eyelids drooped and her knees weakened. He drove her crazy. She wanted to fall at his feet and rub her cheek along his jean covered thigh. She knew she was submissive in the sexual sense, but other men never made her feel it. Zeke had barely touched her and she was willing to offer herself up like a sacrificial virgin.

  “Keep your eyes on me.” He pulled down the lace cups exposing her nipples to the cool air.

  He pinched the puckered buds, eliciting a moan.

  “You are so fucking responsive.” He soothed the heated tips by flicking them and she bit her lower lip to keep from screaming in pleasure. She’d never had anyone pay this much attention to her nipples. The sensations were overwhelming.

  Zeke carried on talking while he played with her breasts. “Tell me our relationship is platonic now.”

  “I can’t,” she choked as he rolled the hard buds between his fingers.

  A platonic relationship wouldn’t feel this good. This charged.

  “Take off your bra.”

  “Zeke...” she pleaded. Unsure whether she wanted him to stop or continue the delicious torture.

  He clucked his tongue against his teeth in admonishment. “Don’t make me ask you again, Grace.”

  The demanding edge to his tone had a curl of desire settling between her thighs, making her wetter than she’d ever been. Slowly, she reached around and flipped open the hooks. The straps sagged and she drew them down her arms. Heat bloomed all over her body. Some of it pure, unadulterated lust. Some lingering embarrassment at being semi-naked in front of Zeke for the first time.

  “Fucckkkk.” The way he said it, guttural and raw, made her pussy throb.

  She’d never been this turned on. This primed and ready for sex. Zeke unlocked a side of her she’d kept tightly controlled. And she wanted more. Wanted everything this man could give her.

  Platonic, her ass. She wanted to have sex with him in the filthiest, dirtiest ways imaginable.

  Zeke returned his attention to her breasts. This time he took them in his hands. His calloused palms skimmed over her sensitive flesh, and she hissed as they abraded her skin. The tinge of pain drove her need higher. At this rate she’d come from just breast play.

  “You like that?” His lips twitched. A cocky sense of male satisfaction settled on his face.

  “Just a little,” she teased, but the words came out throatier than she’d intended.

  His eyes flashed, darkening as he pinched her nipples. Pleasure, hot and desperate, made her vision blur. She gripped his forearms, dug her nails into the skin in hopes of anchoring herself.

  Zeke leaned down, licking the shell of her ear before biting the lobe. “What we have isn’t platonic. I don’t want to be your friend.”

  She angled her head to the side, begging him silently to trail his pillowy lips along one of the most sensitive parts of her body. “What do you want?”

  Was that really her talking? She sounded like someone
who’d been thoroughly fucked for hours on end. Where had that voice come from?

  He kissed his way along her jaw before finally pressing his lips to the hollow of her throat. She moaned as tiny jolts of electricity zapped along her already enlivened nerve endings. Her whole body was a sensitized, throbbing mass. If he moved his hands between her thighs now, he’d find her wet and willing. She’d probably come from a few strokes. She was like an animal in heat. Desperate for her mate to come and satisfy the insatiable need.

  “What do I want, sweet Grace?” His question brought her back to the presence. His lips continued their assault on her neck. Her collarbone. His fingers thrummed her nipples like an expert concert pianist playing a piano. “I want you on your knees so I can put my cock in your hot, little mouth. I want you on your back with my tongue buried deep inside your hot, little pussy. I want to feel you come around my cock.” He bit her collarbone and she cried out as ripples of pleasure made her knees shake.

  When he pulled back and looked into her eyes, she noted his heavy, lidded lust filled gaze. “I want everything, Grace.”

  Yes, her mind screamed. In this moment, with his hands on her and his hard cock pressing into her thigh, she’d give him anything he wanted and more.

  Without asking permission, he dropped to his knees and unbuttoned her pants. Her shallow breathing sped up as he pushed down her slacks. She toed off her shoes and he helped her out of the clothing at her feet. Zeke ran his hands up the back of her calves, up her thighs until he cupped her ass and squeezed.

  The growling noise he made in the back of his throat turned her knees to jelly. She’d never been with a man as sexual and vocal as Zeke. It was amazing to know he was just as turned on as she was. He made her feel powerful and sexy and feminine.

  “Your ass is just as amazing as your tits.” He traced the seam of her ass with his fingers. “I’m gonna fuck you here one day.”

  “Oh my god,” she panted, unable to response to his filthy request. Another slither of moisture soaked her already damp panties.

  This man drove her crazy.